


Again I Go Unnoticed

by bornforwar_archivist



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-31
Updated: 2006-12-31
Packaged: 2020-03-17 10:14:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18963205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bornforwar_archivist/pseuds/bornforwar_archivist
Summary: By Desire





	Again I Go Unnoticed

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Delenn, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Born For War](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Born_For_War), which closed in 2015. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in March 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Born For War collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bornforwar).
> 
> Rating: NC-17 
> 
> Status: WIP 
> 
> Summary:

**Prologue**  
  
  
 **The Geek**   
  
He was sure when you reached the decrepit age of thirty you were almost required to look back on those magical four years of high school with misty eyes and a lump in your throat. You were supposed to yearn for the days when your biggest worry was getting a date to the prom.   
  
High school life was supposed to be one giant, living John Hughes film filled with parties and football games, and various experimentation’s of the illegal and sexual kind –   
  
These were the best four years of your life.   
  
William Hall shut his eyes tightly and held his breath bracing himself for the impact. His tormentors’ cruel laughter nearly drowned out his strangled cry of pain as his denim-encased privates met ‘head’ on with the flagpole.   
  
If these were the best years of his life, he figured he might as well put a hole in his fucking head now and save himself the trouble and misery later.   
  
He writhed around in pain, tears threatening to well up in his eyes. Not from the fact that it hurt so badly: he’d had four years of ‘run-ins’ with the flagpole and had accepted that he might not be able to have children later on in life because of it. It wasn’t even the fact the whole Sunnydale High student body was currently laughing at him, again that was something he’d gotten used to long ago –   
  
It was the fact that there were exactly three weeks left until graduation and not one of his classmates had found it in their hearts to grow up and move beyond the daily routine of ‘Kick the William’.   
  
One eye cracked open and managed to focus from behind the crooked lens of his eyeglasses,   
  
Oh god.   
  
Cecily was there…   
  
And she’d seen everything.   
  
He was so _fucked_.   
  
"Oh my god, are you okay, William?!"   
  
Both eyes now open, head titled to get a good look at his angel, his savior from humiliation. William took in a huge breath, bottling up the pain, and exhaled loudly allowing a tiny smile to briefly grace his lips.   
  
"Just peachy, Willow," he said, voice strained. "Could use a bit of help, though."   
  
His redheaded angel quickly bent down to help him to his feet, groaning as she picked the surprisingly heavy boy up.   
  
"You really gotta learn how to watch out for that flagpole, Willie. Honestly, on behalf of all men everywhere, I worry your nuts are gonna be black and blue if you don’t start avoiding that thing."   
  
A chorus of laughter erupted at the booming, mocking sound of Riley Finn’s voice. The same voice that had led the charge from whence his penis would never recover for the last four years. The same voice that came out of a dopey, oafish bastard with perfect, floppy sandy-brown hair and a corn-fed smile.   
  
"And you really gotta learn how to grow up, Riley!" That was Willow. Good ole Willow…   
  
"Well, now that the ‘bodyguard’ in the Powerpuff Girls T-shirt has spoken, I guess I’ve learned the error of my ways," the jock snickered.   
  
She really needed to stop doing all of his insulting for him.   
  
William’s ears picked up as he heard the decidedly high-pitched giggles pass him by and his gaze automatically cast downwards to focus on his old, ratty, gray trainers. He just couldn’t stand to watch Cecily, his Cecily wrap her arms around that idiot…   
  
"Come on, you’ve had your fun. The first bell is about to ring."   
  
"Are you sure you’re okay?" Willow asked worriedly.   
  
William nodded his head, a tight smile on his face as they carefully made their way inside of the building.   
  
"Never been better."   
  
**   
  
**The Princess**   
  
"Oh my god did you see that?!"   
  
Buffy Summers yawned widely and brought a very lady-like, well-manicured hand up to cover her mouth. She didn’t even bother to remove her Ray-Bans; she knew the scene currently unfolding by heart…   
  
Hell, it happened every morning right before the first bell.   
  
"Ohh!"   
  
As if she were some sort of mindless robot, Buffy joined in laughing with the rest of her friends. But inwardly, she cringed for William Hall. The poor guy she had known in the before time, the long, long ago – also known as ‘Pre-High School’. When things like cliques and trendy tables in the cafeteria didn’t exist and life was only about getting up early enough on Saturday mornings to watch ‘Saved by the Bell’ and playing ‘Miami Vice’ in the basement after school.   
  
"You’d think that loser would get a clue and start coming to school a little later." That cultured, British snicker belonged to the one and only Cecily Holmes.   
  
Buffy suppressed an eye roll. _Why the hell, are we friends again?_   
  
"Spike was always a slow learner," she said casually.   
  
Her eyes widened suddenly,   
  
She just called William…   
  
_Spike_?!   
  
Maybe it was the brief nostalgia trip her sympathy for the geek had sent her flying on, that caused the nickname of old to come out of her mouth. She hadn’t called him that in so long, mostly because that name meant ‘Best Friends Forever’ –   
  
Something they definitely weren’t going to be –   
  
Ever, ever again.   
  
Cordelia Chase raised a perfectly arched brow. "Spike?"   
  
"William, I mean," Buffy chuckled. "Please forgive my total lapse in sanity."   
  
"We already have," Anya Jenkins grinned. "Remember, we completely excused the fact you used to be best friends with him and kindly let you hang out with us."   
  
Buffy snorted. "That was like the fifth grade, okay. You wanna tell us who your friends were in the fifth grade?"   
  
"Alright, I’m bored," Cecily sighed, "lets go put a stop to this."   
  
The pack of girls made their way over to the infamous spot, giggling, ultra expensive Jimmy Choo heels clicking across the pavement.   
  
"Come on, you’ve had your fun. The first bell is about to ring." Cecily shook her head wrapping an arm around her boyfriend.   
  
Lifting one well-manicured hand to adjust her sunglasses, Buffy looked everywhere but at the hunched shoulders of her former friend.   
  
**The Problem**  
  
  
"Maybe she completely missed the whole thing."   
  
"Wills, Cecily and the ‘Rich Bitches’ had the same front row seats they always have."   
  
"Maybe she’s extremely nearsighted – to the point of – um legal blindness?"   
  
William moaned, utterly mortified, and let his head slump. Hands tightly holding the icepack in his lap, he sighed dejectedly and spared a wilted smile in the direction of his best friends.   
  
"I think you’re stretching just a bit too far, Willow."   
  
"I could be right…"   
  
Both boys shot her disbelieving looks.   
  
"Or not," she sighed, smiling sheepishly.   
  
Since their Freshman year the school day had started out like this. With William holding a school-nurse sanctioned icepack over his dick and Willow and Xander at his side trying desperately to find words of encouragement and comfort – and failing miserably.   
  
The moment William arrived in Sunnydale, California straight off the plane from London, Xander Harris and Willow Rosenberg had been his best friends. They ignored the poofy, curly mop of hair on his head, the big owl-like glasses that swallowed his face, his funny British-accent mixed in with the ‘baby-talk’ of a five year old, and his many allergies and accepted him right off. Of course, having new neighbor Buffy’s arm around him, leading him out to the playground, might’ve helped his case a little.   
  
They were joined at the hip, a virtually inseparable threesome that once upon a time had been a foursome…   
  
William took in a deep breath. "You guys can head on to class if you want. There’s really no need for three people to wallow in the pathicness of one."   
  
"We’re not wallowing," Willow gave him a soft smile. "We’re supporting."   
  
"But…" Xander began, quickly jumping to his feet. "If you insist…"   
  
"Xander!"   
  
"What?" he shrugged, his floppy-brown hair falling over his eyes. "I’ve got a French III quiz. If I wasn’t ‘parlez vous-ing’ I would totally be supporting."   
  
William ran a hand through his curly locks and gave Willow an affectionate smile. "It’s okay, Willow. Really, get to class. I’m a big boy, can take care of myself."   
  
He could see the hesitation on her face and gave a small sigh of relief when Willow conceded, pulling him into a hug before she climbed to her feet.   
  
"We’ll see you at lunch, mister."   
  
William gave a firm nod of his head, grinning. "Definitely."   
  
The second he was alone, William leaned back against the wall, shutting his eyes. After he graduated, they would probably name the bloody bench in front of the infirmary after him. Get one of those monosyllabic monkeys down in wood shop to carve his name into it, add a nice varnish and paint the biggest, waving American flag right on the side –   
  
"Uh – excuse me, are you William Hall?"   
  
Eyes opened, William sat up straight. The sound of a British voice sent a surge of renewed hope coursing through his body…   
  
A fellow countrymen. A new student (even though the school year was practically over) who needed someone to show him around –   
  
His shoulders slumped and he let out a little groan, of disappointment, at the sight, of the rather rumpled, tweed-clad man who was obviously in his mid-forties.   
  
_Great, faculty…_   
  
"Yes sir," he said politely. "I’m William Hall."   
  
The older man extended his hand with a friendly smile and William graciously shook it.   
  
"I’m Rupert Giles, the – uh, Counselor here."   
  
"Mmm-hmm."   
  
"Could I have a word with you? It’ll only take a minute and you can get back to…" Mr. Giles curiously raised an eyebrow at the icepack, "whatever it is you’re doing."   
William quickly tossed the pack aside with an embarrassed laugh and climbed to his feet.   
  
"A word? That’s no trouble at all, sir."   
  
**   
  
"Miss Summers…"   
  
Generally, academic strengths included basic subjects like your math’s or your sciences, but for Buffy; Napping-101 was the only ‘class’ she took the time to excel at.   
  
"Miss Summers!"   
  
Her head bolted up from its surprisingly comfortable resting-place atop her unopened Literature book, and Buffy yawned, running a hand through her hair, making the long, shimmering, gold locks perfect again.   
  
"Hmm?"   
  
"I’m so sorry I disturbed you," was the sarcastic reply from the dowdy Literature teacher.   
  
"You’re forgiven," Buffy snickered, causing the rest of the class to burst into laughter.   
  
The older woman frowned. I don’t drink nearly enough to put up with this shit. "You’re wanted in the Guidance Counselor’s office."   
  
Carefully slipping out of the desk, Buffy straightened her mini-skirt and slipped her brand-new Prada bag on her slender shoulder.   
  
"Don’t say anything terribly interesting while I’m gone," she called back casually as she sauntered out of the room.   
And with one final flip of her impeccable hair, she was gone.   
  
**   
  
This girl was a mass of walking contradictions.   
  
In all of his forty-seven years, twenty-five of those spent crammed into the tiny office of a high school surrounded by posters with sayings like ‘A Friend Is A Present You Give Yourself’, he’d never seen anyone like Buffy Summers.   
Rupert Giles adjusted the glasses on the bridge of his nose as he studied the test scores before him.   
  
_Simply Baffling…_   
  
"You wanted to see me?"   
  
"Hmm?"   
  
Mr. Giles looked up, catching the petite blonde leaning against his office door: petulant scowl marring her features, she waved a blue Post-It at him.   
  
"I got a note," Buffy sighed, voice clipped.   
  
"Oh, right. Y – You must be Miss Summers, please come in."   
  
She plopped down in the plush chair in front of his desk, staring at his offered hand as if it were a snake getting ready to strike her.   
  
"I’m Mr. Giles." He cleared his throat, leaving his hand extended for the girl to shake. Buffy rolled her eyes and finally put her hand in his.   
  
"Nice to meet you," she mumbled. "I didn’t do anything I swear! It’s probably Cordelia you want…"   
  
"No – no, you’re not in trouble," he chuckled. "And trust me, it is you that I want…"   
  
Buffy gave him a look.   
  
Mr. Giles sputtered, his face turning bright red. "Oh, not in that way!" he sighed heavily, shaking his head. "I wanted to see you on the matter of your test scores."   
  
"Oh," Buffy nodded. "Is that all? I mean, not that I’m not thankful for this little class-interrupting visit…"   
  
"Miss Summers, you scored a 1580 on the SATs…"   
  
"Yeah, I know," she said disinterestedly. "I made this really cool origami swan out of my score report."   
  
Mr. Giles’ eyes widened in disbelief,   
"You could go to any University in the country! A – And several outside of the country…"   
  
She shrugged nonchalantly.   
  
"Which is why," he continued, exasperated, "I don’t understand how you could be failing American Literature."   
  
"Mrs. Cooper’s a stuck up, tight-ass who’s had it in for me since day one."   
  
"Yes, well, while that may be true…" he began, and Buffy smiled at that, suddenly taking a liking to the flustered Brit, "your SAT scores show that you are more than capable of passing that class."   
  
"Maybe I just test well," she grinned sheepishly. "What, I can’t have layers?"   
  
"Your layers, Miss Summers, are not the issue. Graduating is – and here’s the bottom line… if you don’t pass   
American Literature, you don’t graduate."   
  
The smile on her face completely disappeared and Buffy’s mouth hung open slightly,   
  
"Not Graduate?"   
  
"Not Graduate," Mr. Giles repeated.   
  
"Oh _god_ …"   
  
"But don’t worry, an extremely capable mind like yours should have no problem learning the material needed right away."   
  
"Uh-huh…" She nodded, wide-eyed.   
  
"All you need is a disciplined study partner to keep you on the right track." Mr. Giles leaned over towards the intercom on his desk and pushed the call button. "Could you send in Mr. Hall, please?"   
  
Buffy’s head snapped back towards the door. _Mr. Hall_ …?   
  
"Ah, William," Mr. Giles began, standing, "I’d like you to meet Buffy Summers, your tutee."   
  
William froze in the doorway, his face twisting into a look of horror.   
  
"Her?!" he roared.   
  
Buffy quickly turned back to face Mr. Giles, her face sporting a look eerily similar to William’s. "Whoa, whoa, wait a minute, Giles…"   
  
"Mr. Giles," he corrected cleaning his glasses.   
  
"Did someone spike your tea and crumpets?!" Buffy squeaked, angrily. "He can’t be my tutor!"   
  
"He most certainly can. He already agreed to it, didn’t you William?"   
  
"Well yeah, but you neglected to tell me that the idiot I was agreeing to help out was Buffy!"   
  
"Hey!" Buffy shouted, truly offended. "I don’t need nor do I want your help, Flagpole Willie!"   
  
"I don’t see why the two of you are shouting," Mr. Giles said casually. "It’s already been settled. I’ll just leave the two of you to make out your own study schedule."   
  
**   
  
"Buffy Summers…"   
  
Just saying the name caused a thick bile to rise up in his throat. William pushed around the sludge on his tray that was supposed to pass as ‘food’ and made a face as he swallowed the vomit.   
  
"I’m tutoring Buffy Summers…"   
  
"It could be worse." Willow offered him a supportive, best friend smile.   
  
"Not bloody likely," he grumbled.   
  
"I’ve gotta agree with Will, here," Xander said training a nasty look in the direction of the trendy table where Buffy sat laughing all snuggled up with her meathead boyfriend Angel Connelly. "Who in their right fucking mind would actually want to spend hours and hours with the gaping, vapid black hole that is Buffy Summers."   
  
Willow grinned. "Aw, you just don’t like her cause of that time she rejected you everyday for five years."   
  
Xander narrowed his eyes at her. "It’s not just that! She ditched us, remember?! All because we didn’t meet Cecily’s and the rest of the RB’s standards…"   
  
"Hey," William said sternly pointing his fork at Xander. "You leave Cecily’s good name out of that group. She’s nothing like the rest of that lot."   
  
"Right," Xander snorted. "Cause she always notices you when her boyfriend’s not slamming your dick into the flagpole."   
  
Willow laughed nervously. "Alright guys, this rather manly display of testosterone is starting to scare me." She paused, shaking her head. "Buffy used to be our friend and no matter what, I refuse to believe that the Buffy Summers I knew is dead and buried."   
  
"You’re the eternal optimist, Wills," William smiled.   
  
"Darn-tootin!" the redhead nodded. "Life hands you lemons, make lemonade. Only you know, remember to put the sugar in cause this one time my mom talked me into making lemonade for her bosses while they were meeting at our house and I totally forgot to add sugar and…"   
  
"But…" William began cutting off the rambling girl, "the girl you knew is dead and buried. There ladies and gentlemen at that table sits the hollowed-out shell of Buffy Summers," he snickered. "An alien whose mother-ship is Abercrombie & Fitch, is in total control of her now."   
  
**Lesson the First**  
  
  
"Mr. Giles is insane! He’s an insane little man in tweed…"   
  
Buffy brought a hand to her head in an attempt to stifle the god awful pounding that had begun as soon as she walked out of the Counselor’s office. She absently stirred around the food-like sludge on her tray and swallowed the vomit that had risen in her throat.   
  
"Since when can the school actually force you to spend time with losers?!" Cordelia continued to rant to no one in particular.   
  
"Since graduating depends on it," Buffy grumbled.   
  
"I don’t see how you could be failing American Lit, Buffy…" Angel spoke up slipping an arm around her waist in a sign of support, "it’s an easy class."   
  
Cecily giggled. "Well, Angel, our little Buffy isn’t exactly known for being the biggest brain. Probably too busy snoring to actually pay attention."   
  
On the first day of her Freshman year at Sunnydale High, Buffy was given the opportunity to call the large, round table, off towards the back of the cafeteria ‘home’.   
  
Puberty and her cousin Kate’s endless stacks of Seventeen magazines, had obviously been good to her, because suddenly Cecily Holmes, the same Cecily Holmes who’d spent the three previous years in Junior High ignoring her was at her side asking her for fashion tips. And Liam Connelly, the same Liam Connelly with his angelic face that she’d openly lusted after since the third grade, was suddenly making eyes at her –   
  
In one day her whole world had turned upside down: allegiances shifted, and she tossed aside the three people who knew her better than anyone to be able to sit at a certain table when the lunch bell rang.   
  
Buffy let out a hollow laugh at the girl’s comment, discreetly rolling her eyes. Lately, Cecily and the trendy table (as much as inanimate objects could) were beginning to grate on her nerves…   
  
"What can I say, Cece – you know I’m cranky if I don’t get my full ten hours."   
  
Angel looked at her thoughtfully. "But, you seemed to know the material pretty well when you helped me study for that poetry unit test."   
  
Buffy chuckled giving a tiny shrug. "It was writing out all of those notes for you that did it. Must’ve totally stuck in my brain."   
  
"Yeah, well, whatever," Cordy began, taking a sip of her Diet Coke, "I still say, it’s cruel and unusual punishment to make William Hall be your study buddy."   
  
Emerald eyes decided to take a break from focusing on the watery meatloaf on the cafeteria tray, and shifted their attention towards the social leper colony just over Cecily’s shoulder. Spike – er – William, Xander, and Willow were laughing, more than likely at her. The Princess who’d probably end up receiving her diploma in the Idiot-Hell that was summer school, because she couldn’t even stay conscious long enough to take a test over Walt Whitman…   
_Why the hell is Willie laughing anyway?! He should be just as miserable as I am, miserable-er even_!   
  
_**Miserable-er**_?   
  
Buffy frowned at her inner fake-word usage, and shook her head, snapping back to reality the second Cecily’s prissy accent cut in.   
  
"Huh? Did you say something?" she asked.   
  
"Yeah," Cecily said, mildly annoyed. "I asked if you’d seen Riley. That boy never misses a bloody lunch…"   
  
"Um – Anya said something about she and Riley having to forgo lunch to finish up a Chemistry assignment in the lab."   
  
"Oh," the Brit sighed. "Why didn’t he tell me earlier?"   
  
"It’s Riley we’re talking about. I’m surprised he can remember how to tie his shoes every morning," Angel snickered earning a laugh from the rest of the group.   
  
Buffy joined in, laughing the same mindless automaton laugh she had that morning when William was rammed into the flagpole for the millionth time. Her mind was too busy focusing on why Willie was all smiley and seemingly happy than to make an honest decision on whether or not Angel’s joke was funny. Then again, knowing Angel, it was probably just south of completely lame –   
  
_He shouldn’t be smiling…_   
  
**   
  
"I was thinking, how about I tutor you? I’ve got an A, I know The Great Gatsby like the back of my hand, you’d learn in no time." Leaning against his hot, red little Mustang convertible, Angel pulled Buffy closer, her body now flush against his, and smiled sweetly. "Plus, no ‘Flagpole Willie’ to put up with."   
  
Stretching upwards a bit, she planted a series of feathery kisses on his lips.   
  
"For some reason, I don’t see a whole lot of studying being done in that scenario."   
  
"What?" he asked innocently giving her ass a light squeeze, "Are you questioning my teaching abilities…?"   
  
"Mmm-hmm."   
  
The loud cough that came from behind the pair instantly put a stop to the kissing and ruined the moment they were in completely.   
  
Her face dropped at the sight of him; the curly brillo-pad he called hair, plain, buttoned down brown shirt, baggy blue jeans, and impeccable scowl had sent her ‘good-down-low tickle’, scurrying away.   
  
_God, he’s like a walking cold shower…_   
  
Angel frowned. "Can we help you?"   
  
"I’m here for Buffy," William sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Might as well get this first lesson out of the way."   
  
"Oh, come on, Willie! It’s 3:00, I just had six hours of books, can’t I take it easy for a few before this nightmare begins…?"   
  
Eyes closed tightly, he breathed in deeply and resisted the urge to scream. "If you hadn’t spent so much time ‘taking it easy’, this nightmare wouldn’t be happening, now would it?"   
  
A little taken aback by William’s tone, Buffy hung her head briefly and shrugged out of her boyfriend’s arms.   
  
"And don’t call me ‘Willie’," he added.   
  
"Fine," she gritted her teeth. "I’ll meet you at my house."   
  
"Meet me? Why don’t we just ride there together?"   
  
The blonde scoffed and dramatically brought a hand to her chest as if she were absolutely horrified.   
  
"Because I don’t ride anywhere with _you_."   
  
Angel’s hands slipped onto her shoulders, lightly massaging them. "Go, Buffy. The faster this is over, the better."   
  
She turned, lips forming into a pout and let out the loudest whine she could muster. "But he owns a _Volvo_!"   
  
**   
  
An amused smile graced William’s lips as he watched her throw open the passenger side door like there was no tomorrow and run for the front porch of the Summers’ home as if her very life depended on it…   
  
Mix in a trip to the dentist with a little rectal surgery and you have the painful equivalent to the torture that was the approximately thirty minute car ride over. The deafening silence between them was only broken once, when Buffy took it upon herself to rummage through his glove box, discovering his tape collection.   
  
_"Boys II Men?!" she shot him a look suppressing a laugh. "You have got to be kidding."  
  
"What’s wrong with Boys II Men?" he asked honestly. "They’ve got good harmonies."   
  
Buffy snorted as she slipped the tape back into the compartment,   
  
"Guess you’re not kidding."_   
  
"Alright," she said gruffly, opening the door, "lets get this over with."   
  
William narrowed his eyes and made a small clicking sound with his teeth as he reluctantly followed the girl inside. "Right."   
  
"Buffy is that you?!"   
  
"Uh, yeah mom!" she shouted and grabbed William’s arm dragging him towards the stairs. The last thing she needed was for her mom to find him here and want to get all-nostalgic…   
  
"Come on before she…"   
  
"Hi sweetheart," the chipper voice of Joyce Summers broke in. Shoulders slumped in utter defeat and heaving a great sigh, Buffy slowly turned to face her mother. Her grip so strong on William, she could have very well been cutting off his circulation and a pained smile on her face –   
  
"Hi, mom."   
  
He smiled in earnest and gave a small wave of his hand to the woman who’d been like a second mother to him so long ago. "Hi, Mrs. Summers."   
  
The blonde teen glared at him, grip now so tight she was leaving prints of her fingers on his flesh. _Who the hell gave him permission to speak_?!   
  
"William," Joyce smiled softly. "Gosh, I haven’t seen you in…"   
  
"Four years," he finished for her.   
  
The elder Summers shook her head in that disbelieving way adults do so well when they take a moment to marvel at the miracle of growing up. "Well, you have certainly grown into a handsome young man. Isn’t he handsome, Buffy."   
  
She rolled her eyes, snickering. "Swoon-worthy."   
  
"Oh, I almost forgot! I brought in a new African piece from the gallery today! I was just hanging it in the kitchen…"   
  
"Really?" he asked wrenching his poor arm free from Buffy’s vice like grasp and followed Joyce towards the kitchen. "What kind of piece?"   
  
"What kind of piece?" Buffy half mocked, half grumbled as she slowly trailed behind the two. "Kiss ass…"   
  
Her mother proudly stood in front of the African mask that now hung on the wall directly over the kitchen sink. "So, what do you think?" she asked beaming.   
  
Taking in the sight of the menacing painted, glow-y red, demon eyes, and sharp wooden teeth, Buffy made a face, slowly backing up towards the door.   
  
"It’s um…very…"   
  
"Fascinating!" William stared at absolutely wide-eyed and entranced. He inched closer to get a better look. "What part of Africa is it from?"   
  
"Nigeria," Joyce sighed happily. "Doesn’t it just go perfectly with this room…"   
  
Buffy quirked a brow. "Mom, it’s angry at the room. It wants the room to suffer." Exasperated, she reached out for William’s arm once again and yanked him to her side. "Anyway, if you need us, we’ll be upstairs…"   
  
"Upstairs…?" Joyce crossed her arms disapprovingly.   
  
Buffy frowned. "Studying, mom! I mean…" She gave William a once over, face twisting up as if she’d just gotten a whiff of something horrible like horse manure or un-flushed toilets in a girls bathroom, "eww…"   
  
**   
  
"So, what first teach?" Buffy asked, dramatically flopping down on her bed. William remained frozen in the doorway; this room hadn’t changed one bit…   
  
Okay, so maybe some of the truly dated items like _New Kids on the Block_ posters and Jonathan Taylor Thomas _BOP_ pinups were gone, but other than that, everything was exactly the same. The same wallpaper, the same window he used to climb in and out of – the corners of his mouth turned up into a smile at the sudden barrage of memories:   
  
_The all night pillow fight that resulted in a broken lamp…  
  
The footie pajamas and stuffed pig Mr. Gordo Buffy just couldn’t sleep without…   
  
The peaceful and innocent snuggling right before they both drifted off…_   
  
"Hello, earth to Willie!"   
  
That quickly cancelled the trip down memory lane.   
  
"Are we gonna get started or what," she rattled off, seemingly ignoring him, "because I do have an elsewhere I’d like to be."   
  
"Don’t call me Willie," he snapped, taking a seat on the floor, "and it might help if you took out a book or two," he said sardonically, smirking. "Maybe even a paper and some sort of writing implement."   
  
With another roll of her eyes, Buffy opened her backpack and dumped the contents on her bed. "Can’t see why you’re single, Willie; what girl doesn’t love repressed British wit?"   
  
"Have you read The Great Gatsby?" he asked with a sigh, ignoring her comment.   
  
"The ‘Great’ who?"   
  
"Gatsby."   
  
_Five times in the fifth grade…_ "Nope," Buffy lied, yawning, "was I supposed to?"   
  
William shut his eyes tightly and took in a long, deep breath. "Three fourths of this final is over The Great Gatsby," he said very slowly as if he were speaking to a moron.   
  
She shrugged. "Is there a movie I can watch? Or, hey, is it a part of one of those books on tape series?"   
  
"Look, I know I’m cutting in on your valuable shagging time with that magnificent poofter you’ve got for a boyfriend, but did it ever occur in that empty head of yours, the more you cooperate the faster this little lesson will be over? And the faster you’ll be able to hunt Angel down and continue the bloody hump-fest that started in the parking lot!" William shouted, nostrils flaring. The little vein in his neck pulsated and Buffy almost swore she could hear the "cha-cha" as she watched it.   
  
Tearing her eyes away from the ‘dancing vein’, she glared at him and clenched her teeth as she finally caught on to what he’d just said. "What makes you think me and Angel…"   
  
"Oh, come on, Buffy! Look at you!"   
  
She titled her head to one side and gave him a good pointed look before she turned a scrutinizing eye towards her outfit. The off-the-shoulder, form fitting, cute little vintage, forest green ‘Camp Can-Do’ T-shirt, and black mini topped off with a brand new pair of Mary Janes… _nope, nothing wrong with this picture…_   
  
"Who the fuck do you think you are?! She cried angrily. "Because I’m not covered from head-to-toe in some baggy nightmare, I’m automatically a big ho?!"   
  
"I didn’t mean…"   
  
"Didn’t mean what?!"   
  
William forced down the gigantic lump in his throat and hung his head in shame. He really hadn’t meant to say that – out loud anyway…   
  
"I’ll have you know, ‘Saint William’, Angel and I have never ‘shagged’!" she bit out. "I’ve never shagged anyone!"   
  
A painful, ugly awkward silence filled the room and it seemed like an eternity had passed before William finally said:   
  
"Never?"   
  
Buffy frowned and repeated. "Never."   
  
He sighed, still absolutely stunned by her revelation; The Great Gatsby apparently forgotten for now…   
  
**The Decline of Western Civilization**  
  
  
He was an idiot…   
  
100%, Grade A…   
  
_Fucking_ Idiot.   
  
_"Never."  
  
He sighed, still absolutely stunned by her revelation. The Great Gatsby apparently forgotten for now as William collected himself and gave Buffy a nasty smirk.   
  
"I can’t believe you of all people is still a sodding virgin," he scoffed.   
  
"Again," Buffy began, her voice clipped, "what the fuck is that supposed to mean?"   
  
"It means, with all of the dry-humping you and Angel do, public opinion is that the two of you were doing some of the not so dry kind as well…"   
  
"Hey! We do stuff!" she shouted. "We do plenty of – **stuff**! Just not that – not yet anyway. But we will – soon."   
  
William snickered. "Whatever you say."   
  
"All of this talk about little ole me," Buffy began grinning wickedly, "what about you Studly?"   
  
"About me?" William asked playing stupid.   
  
She nodded. "Mmm-hmm. So, how many lucky young ladies have seen Paradise by the Volvo-Dashboard Light?"   
  
"Uh…" he stuttered, "well, you don’t know her of course…"   
  
"Sure…"   
  
"We met last year when – uh – my family and I were vacationing in Toronto."   
  
"What’s her name?"   
  
"H – Her name?"   
  
Buffy casually crossed her legs and propped her chin in the palm of her hand. "Uh-huh. She does have a name, right? I’m sure that’s required by law or something…"   
  
"It’s um…" William paused, "Cindy?"   
  
"Are you asking me or telling me?"   
  
"I’m telling you, it’s Cindy."   
  
"Cindy," Buffy smiled, "Cindy from Toronto, huh?"   
  
"Yeah," he shook his head. "Very talented girl."   
  
"So, with the exception of the female population in the Greater Toronto area; how many girls here have you fucked?"   
  
William hesitated, looking around the room, tapping his finger on the side of his head as if he really had to think…   
"Too many to count really," he laughed hollowly, "I can’t help it if so many women fancy me and oh, bloody hell," he sighed, completely defeated and just a tad humiliated, running a hand through his wild curls. "Okay none. There are none," he smiled sheepishly. "Cindy from Toronto’s a total lie."   
  
Buffy brought a hand to her chest and gasped in mock horror. "You don’t say…"   
  
"But it’ll happen soon for me as well…"   
She let out a very unlady-like snort. "Some hot little honey in the Vulkon chat-room?"   
  
"Ha, bloody ha," he glowered. "I had Cecily more in mind – and I’ve never been a fan of Star Trek, you should know that."   
  
"Cecily?!" Buffy squeaked and found her self wondering, just when the stable William Hall she knew way back when had become so delusional?   
  
William nodded.   
  
"We are talking about the same Cecily right? About 52", curly, dark hair, boyfriend by the name of Riley, as far out of your league as humanly possible?"   
  
He narrowed his eyes at her. "That’d be the one…"   
  
Buffy paused a moment before letting out the biggest, loudest laugh, ever heard.   
  
William sat in silence watching the girl practically double over: lips pursed a truly annoyed look on his face, he waited patiently for her to finish wiping the tears from her eyes before saying:   
  
"Would you mind telling me what exactly is so goddamn funny?"   
  
"It’s just," she choked out, still giggling, "you’re joking right? If it wasn’t for Riley and company finding new and interesting ways to make you sterile, Cece wouldn’t even know you exist. Buffy shook her head, "At least Angel and I are dating – you don’t have a prayer…"   
  
"You wanna bet," he said clenching his fists.   
  
That wicked smile slowly returned to her lips.   
  
"Why not."   
  
William paled. "You are aware that I wasn’t serious…"   
  
"Lets see…" Buffy thoughtfully drummed her fingers on the bedspread. "How about we be really 90’s teen comedy about this…"   
  
He gave her a look. "Who or what taught you how to talk?"   
  
"On grad night," she continued, ignoring him.   
  
"Assuming you graduate," he handily supplied, snickering.   
  
"On grad night…" Buffy said once more as she elegantly gave him the finger, "we lose our virginity. Me to Angel and you to Cecily…"   
  
"Where does the bet come in exactly?"   
  
"Here. Since, Angel and I are kind of a given – I was thinking, if you do lose your virginity to Cecily, then I’ll… I dunno, drive around in that ratty-assed Volvo of yours with Boys II Men blasting all summer."   
  
"You don’t drive!" William shouted   
  
"So," she shrugged.   
  
"Summers, you’re not touching my car!"   
  
"It’s a Volvo! The craptacular’s already built in, no one would notice."   
  
"You’re off your bird! That’s the only car I’ve got!"   
  
"My sympathies."   
  
"I’ve got it," William’s lips curled into a smile. "If I sleep with Cecily, then you’ll have to bring Jonathan Levinson to Cecily’s big graduation party as your date. There should be a reasonable amount of groping on your part…"   
  
"Jonathan?! Are you insane?! He's a bigger loser than you are…" Buffy trailed off, smiling suddenly. She had nothing to worry about – this was a bet she couldn’t lose. Half the time Cecily couldn’t even get William’s name right, there was no way she’d ever consent to having sex with him, unless the bookish boy stooped low enough and evoked ‘The Great Roofie Spirit’ to trick her into it –   
  
She shuddered at that thought before putting her hand in his and giving it a hard shake. "You’ve got yourself a bet. But – uh, on a side note – Cecily tells me everything, and if she doesn’t put ‘sex’ and ‘William Hall’ in the same sentence, you lose."   
  
"Fair enough." William climbed to his feet and tossed her his copy of ‘Gatsby’. "Now that, that’s settled, I want chapters 1-5 read by Wednesday. I’ll quiz you on it when we meet that afternoon."   
  
With a short nod of his head, secretly enjoying the various stages of pale her face underwent the very second he said the word ‘quiz’, William made his way to the door. "See you Wednesday, Buffy," he called back mockingly, shutting the bedroom door just in time to miss being struck in the head by a flying paperback._   
  
What in _god’s_ name was he thinking taking this bet?!   
  
William sighed heavily as he stared into the mirror on his dresser. Buffy was right; he didn’t have a prayer… no hope whatsoever.   
  
The Gods must be killing themselves laughing at him…   
  
Slightly startled by the loud sound of the door down the hall slamming shut, he shook his head: the sound of his older sister’s appalling Cockney filling his ears and stopping his inner-cursing of himself – for now anyway.   
  
"Mummy! Daddy! I’m goin’ out!"   
  
Nearly twenty-six and still living at home, William considered his sister Drusilla to be one of the saddest of the sad. Of course, certain allowances had to be made for her ‘condition’. Dru was fragile, had to give her, her space, let her live as normal a life as possible. After all, no one knew she had what the doctors so handily referred to as an ‘addictive personality’. No one knew that her ‘friends’ would have so many drugs…   
  
"Looking at your pretty face, my William?"   
  
Jumping for the second time today, William quickly turned around to find Dru smiling at him. Raven hair covering one eye, her tiny bird-like frame supported against the doorway, she "tsked" at him disapprovingly.   
  
"Now, now William, you know vanity is a sin."   
  
"Right, Dru," he said stepping away from the dresser. "Is there something you wanted?"   
  
"I’m going out!" She clapped excitedly. "And you know what that means, don’t you?"   
  
"Stay out of your room, I know."   
  
She pointed one long, black fingernail at him, waving it. "Lots of naughty things in there that aren’t for little boy’s eyes." Dru twirled a strand of her long hair around that same finger. "You’ll miss me while I’m gone, won’t you?"   
  
He sighed. "Terribly."   
  
**   
  
_She doesn’t even know you exist…_   
  
Those words, more than anything else that had come out of Buffy’s annoying little mouth seemed to stick with him.   
  
As much as it pained him to admit, this was one thing that she’d been right about. William Hall in this state of being, didn’t stand a chance in hell of getting Cecily Holmes to talk to him, let alone be his first…   
  
The door to Dru’s room creaked loudly as he eased his way inside.   
  
In the past, his sister’s morbid fascination with death, depression, and essentially all things Goth, frightened him. He just never got why anyone would go out of his or her way to be purposefully labeled a ‘Freak’. Why stand out when you can blend in with the background hopefully well enough so that the popular, beautiful ones would leave you alone.   
  
He was tired of being background.   
  
Cecily never noticed the background…   
  
Squatting to his knees, he sifted through the massive DVD collection perfectly arranged on the bottom shelf of her desk.   
  
Hmm…’The Decline of Western Civilization’…   
  
But all that, he figured as he eyed the DVD in his hands, was about to change.   
  
**Let the Games Begin**  
  
  
8:15 on the dot...   
  
He was exactly fifteen minutes late.   
  
He was never late.   
  
Riley stared at his watch actually feeling the seconds mercilessly tick away. It was probably the thousandth time he'd checked it that morning.   
  
8:16 am...   
  
He didn't get it! This kid lived for school didn't he? It was an understood rule that at 8:00, the 'morning ritual' began and he'd shown up on time every day and took his undeserved punishment.   
  
For four years it never failed,   
  
But by 8:17 Monday morning - two weeks before graduation -   
  
'Wee-Willie' Hall was nowhere to be found.   
  
"Maybe he's sick." The voice of Scott Hope broke the silence among the group of boys. He gave Riley a lopsided smile. "It could happen."   
  
"Willie doesn't get sick!" Riley shouted, looking up from his watch for the thousandth-and-one time. "Has anyone actually ever seen him sick?"   
  
"Uh..."   
  
"Um..."   
  
"No, you haven't," he said abruptly, ending the chorus of confused grunts and mumbles. "Willie's got some kind of Super Geek immune system."   
  
8:18am.   
  
Angel sighed. "So he's late, Riley; the world won't stop turning."   
  
"Yeah, but this throws off my whole day, you know?"   
  
The group nodded in understanding.   
  
8:19am...   
  
Forrest patted Riley on the back reassuringly. "There's always tomorrow, buddy."   
  
  
**   
  
  
One, well-manicured hand came up to cover her mouth as she let out one, elegantly long yawn: Ray-Ban's hiding her tired, green eyes. Buffy laughed suddenly as if she'd been programmed to, earning looks from the other girls.   
  
"Did you forget your anti-insane-o pill this morning, Buffy?"   
  
The blonde's mouth quickly snapped shut when she finally realized she was the *only* one laughing. Buffy propped her sunglasses on the top of her head. "Isn't it 8:00?"   
  
"It's the 8:00 hour," Anya supplied matter-of-factly, "but technically, it's 8:19."   
  
Cecily smiled, "Angel keeping you up way past your bedtime again?"   
  
"Uh-huh," Buffy muttered absently glancing around the quad.   
  
Where was the scream of pain? The loud laughter? Where -   
  
The first bell of the day sounded promptly at 8:20 and Buffy moved soundlessly into the building along with everyone else, briefly sparing a look at the flagpole as she passed it.   
  
Where was William?   
  
  
**   
  
  
"Did you see that guy?! You saw that guy, right?!"   
  
William ignored Xander and continued to steam ahead towards another rack of jeans.   
  
"Who knew you could pierce your forehead...?"   
  
Smiling proudly, he pulled out a perfect pair of black jeans and took a step back, running dead into Willow.   
  
"Could you not stand so close, Wills?"   
  
"Sorry." Willow blushed backing away from William. "It's just - they have plastic clothes in here and - and the guy behind the counter is wearing a Priest collar but I'm pretty sure he's not a Father at St. Joseph's." She now clung to Xander's arm in genuine fear as her ears were assaulted relentlessly by a Slipknot song.   
  
"They're not plastic and what do you think of these pants?" William stated holding up the pair of jeans for his two friends.   
  
Xander looked at the jeans, looked at him, looked at the jeans again and then back at William and sighed dramatically. "If the flagpole hasn't already killed your chances of having children one day, those jeans will definitely get the job done."   
  
"Oh, oh god!" Willow gasped suddenly. "It's 8:30! We're - we're late - we're beyond late - we're officially skipping! We're truants! They still have cops for that sort of thing, don't they?"   
  
"Truants?" Xander gave her a look. "Feel free to come back to the twenty- first century anytime, Wills." He turned to William. "In her own, special Willow-way, she does have a point, William. What's with the school skipping and the dragging us in a store where barbed-wire is sold as a hip accessory?"   
  
He shrugged. "Felt like shopping is all."   
  
"Shopping?!" Xander squeaked. "You felt like - did Buffy manage to brainwash you in the one afternoon you spent together?"   
  
"Nobody's brainwashed me, you git!" he sighed, "Now, I'm gonna go and try this stuff on." William called back jokingly as he walked away, "Try not to frighten the customers you two."   
  
Xander paused, gazing down at the redhead still attached to his arm.   
  
"Hey, Willow, what's a git?"   
  
  
**   
  
  
"How short do you want it?"   
  
William curiously titled his head to the side, studying his curly mop closely in the stylist's mirror. The girl loudly snapped her gum and raised her brows impatiently.   
  
"Well...?"   
  
He turned to her. "As short as you want to go."   
  
**Changes**  
  
  
He didn't feel like a William.   
  
Good, solid name as it was, it simply didn't fit him anymore. 'William' meant a "walking target". Meant years of run-ins with various, faceless bullies, and the laughter and total rejection of various, faceless girls he'd fancied.   
  
"I say, you look right handsome, my dear brother."   
  
He continued to stare at this 'new' reflection of himself in the mirror, and caught a glimpse of his sister's titled head.   
  
Drusilla idly played with the bottle of peroxide in her hands and giggled. "Mummy will be pissed."   
  
"My whole, bloody head's on fire," he grumbled.   
  
Dru ran her long, red nails through her brother's newly platinum curls. "Pain is the price of beauty, I suppose."   
  
William shook his head; that was Dru, the bathroom philosopher -   
  
"May I ask, William, what brought about this sudden change?"   
  
"Just felt like it was time for something completely different, Dru," he sighed, leaning closer towards the mirror.   
  
Lips pulled tightly, Drusilla nodded and placed the plain bottle down on the sink next to his hand. She looked straight ahead, locking eyes with William's reflection.   
  
"To thine own self be true." she curiously raised a brow. "Who said that?"   
  
"Polonius, it's from Hamlet."   
  
"Right," Dru chuckled turning away, "words to live by, don't you think?" she called back as she eased her way out the door.   
  
The second she was gone, William removed his glasses and pressed his face even closer to that mirror, closely scrutinizing his reflection as best he could partially blind. Squinting, he titled his head and took a deep breath, finally coming to the conclusion that the name "William", just wouldn't do.   
  
  
**   
  
"Unghh.oh! God! Buffy.!"   
  
Skin humming, senses heightened, and an unbelievable white-hot ball of pressure building up in the pit of her stomach, Buffy dug her fingernails deep into Angel's shoulders, leaving little crescent marks on his smooth skin.   
  
Burying his face in the crook of her neck, he cried out the second he came, and Buffy finally exhaled the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding as the full weight of her boyfriend's body pressed down on top of her. With a few, almost desperate gulps of air, Angel rolled off, and fell into a boneless heap next to her.   
  
Her eyes flittered open and she briefly wondered if sex would still feel this way without the clothes on -   
  
"You know," Buffy began, turning over to face him, "I was thinking maybe we could try that without the jeans." She lightly traced her fingers over his bare chest, giving him a seductive smile.   
  
Angel managed to sit up and pressed a kiss to her forehead,   
  
"I want to make sure you're ready. That everything's perfect, you know that."   
  
Buffy sighed, her eyes narrowing as a combination of anger and certain 'unfulfilled' feelings joined together to create one giant mass of frustration. My boyfriend the boy scout.   
  
"So, we'll continue dry-humping until you feel we've perfected that art."   
  
"That's not fair, Buffy."   
  
"Exactly," she snapped, slipping out of bed, "it's not fair! As fairness goes - this wouldn't even be in the fair ballpark. Hell, it's not even in the fair continent!"   
  
"Buffy."   
  
"I'm ready!" She threw her hands in the air, "Angel, I'm more than ready! We've been together for four years, that's like a lifetime in high school, and we love each other, so excuse me if I'm starting to sound like the sleezy guy in some cliché Sex Ed video, but I'm tired of playing the waiting game!"   
  
"Having your first time be special is important to me."   
  
Her face softened at his honesty. "Special's what you make it."   
  
Angel opened his mouth but the sound of the phone on Buffy's bedside table ringing, cut him off before he could speak. Eyes shooting heavenwards, Buffy cursed the phone's bad timing and made a silent promise to strangle whomever it was on the other end of the line.   
  
"Hello?" she said gruffly.   
  
"Ooh, did I catch you at a bad time, luv?" was the low, mocking, baritone drawl that filled her ears and Buffy scrunched her eyebrows in confusion.   
  
_Who the hell_?   
  
"Huh? Who is this?"   
  
"Having voice recognition problems?" A sigh. "It's Will."   
  
"Will.?"   
  
He sighed again, this time loudly. "William, you silly bint."   
  
"Great." Buffy began, sarcasm dripping from her voice, "Spike. My day is complete." She paused, mentally kicking herself for calling William by that long-forgotten nickname and glanced over in Angel's direction, hoping that he didn't catch her slip. Thank god, he's too busy putting his shirt back on. The thought of their not-quite-sex sent her frustration barreling back and she barked, "What do you want?!"   
  
"Listen, I'm not going to be able to make it to today's scheduled lesson, so I was thinking we could move it to a later time."   
  
"How later?"   
  
"8:00 later."   
  
"I can't!" Buffy shouted. "I'm going Bronzing tonight!"   
  
"That's not a problem," William said causally. "Bring your books and we'll grab a cozy, little table off to the side."   
  
She snorted. "Did your brain cell's deplete at the same time your voice inexplicably dropped five octaves?! One: it's Saturday and two: I don't study with my dancing shoes on."   
  
"It's your grade, ducks." That foreign casual sound was back in his voice, where the hell was that anal retentive clicking she'd grown so used to? "I'm sure Joyce would love to tack the diploma of her one and only on the wall, but whether it even makes it to your hands is up to you."   
  
"Since when do you call my mom Joyce?"   
  
"See you at eight, Buffy," William teased in a singsong voice.   
  
"There's been a slight hitch in tonight's plans," Buffy began, hanging up the phone. "Wee-Willie's deciding to be a very, British thorn in my ass, and is tagging along with us to make me study.Angel?"   
  
Shoulders slumped, lips pulled into a tight, thin line, Buffy let out one long, frustrated sigh.   
  
Angel was gone.   
  
God she hated when he did that.   
  
  
**   
  
  
William remained sitting by the phone, grimacing; he didn't feel like a 'Will' either.   
  
The name 'Will' had a certain, poofter ring to it he wasn't exactly looking for.   
  
_"Great. Spike. My day is complete."_   
  
He smiled in spite of himself at that thought. It had been ages since Buffy had called him by that moniker and he was powerless to stop the memories it stirred up.   
  
  
_"I don't think I like this very much."  
  
Buffy pursed her lips, turning away from her work, and tilted her head to get a better look at her best friend, the ends of her right pigtail brushing against her neck as she did so. "What's the matter, Will-ye-um?" She said his name as if she were sounding it out in class. "Don't you trust me?"   
  
The little boy lowered his head before looking her straight in the eye, "I rather think not."   
  
Buffy giggled, "When are you gonna stop talking so funny?" She straightened back up, taking her place behind him and dipped her hands into the vat of gel, "You'll look cool, I promise. I've seen my cousin do this a thousand times."   
  
She plopped her sticky hands into his hair, making a face at the sucking noises the gel made as she ran it through. Buffy took one patch of William's curls and glopped some gel on top of it before wrapping her tiny hand around it and pulling it straight up. She moved back, holding her hands over her mouth to keep her laughter from getting out.   
  
"What, what's the matter?!" William asked panicked, he could hear her sniggering.   
  
"Nothing," she snorted and quickly covered her mouth again. She couldn't help it, William looked so silly with that one, lone spike in the middle of his head.   
  
"Then why are you laughing?" The boy climbed to his feet and raced towards a mirror, tiny eyes widening at the sight he saw.   
  
"Now you're a 'Spike-head'," Buffy called to him doubling over in laughter._   
  
  
William ran a hand through his hair as the memory faded away, a thoughtful look forming on his face.   
  
  
**   
  
  
"Mmm-hmm...yeah, he's a total ass sometimes - no I haven't seen him today." Buffy said absently, clutching her cell with her shoulder as she opened the library doors. Her cheeks puffed slightly from the yawn she held in; she couldn't very well let Cecily know that this conversation was boring her to tears.   
  
Lately, all her "BFF" seemed to want to talk about was Riley and how he was either a) never around or b) a total bastard when he was around. And after what happened with Angel, William inviting himself along to the Bronze, and having to be seen in the library on a Saturday, Buffy wasn't exactly in the mood to do the best friend support thing needed for Cecily's Riley diatribes.   
  
"Mmm-hmm - well, that Chem project is like half of his grade, even Riley knows when to prioritize." She bit her tongue and resisted the urge to scream. "No, I'm not saying that _you're_ not a priority." Buffy managed a tiny sigh as she rounded the corner near the back of the stacks.   
  
Would it be breaking the best friend credo if I told her to fuck off.? "I'm getting dirty looks from the librarian so..."   
  
Cecily's scream of "What the fuck are you doing in a library?!" was loud enough to grab the attention of those huddled around the tables near her and succeeded in earning Buffy more than a few pointed stares. She gave them an apologetic smile and whispered into the phone,   
  
"Gatsby. F. This is where the books live. Call you later. Bye."   
  
She chuckled, embarrassed and a bit red-faced, and stuffed her cell phone into her bag. "You know how friend's can be - all amazed at the incredible power of reading."   
  
"Shh!"   
  
"Right," Buffy muttered, moving towards and empty table, "quiet as a mouse."   
  
She dumped her belongings and eased towards the stacks to begin a tireless search for The Great Gatsby. Buffy craned her neck somewhat painfully as she scanned the bookends for Fitzgerald's name. The Powers are so punishing me for using the school copy as a coaster.   
  
"Oh! I'm so sorry!"   
  
Blonde hair whipped around, a perfect, deadly scowl already in place and ready to tear the clumsy oaf who'd bumped into her a new asshole, but the 'Queen Bitch' in her died quickly at the sight of her former friend. Automatically, the corners of her lips quirked upwards into a genuine smile.   
  
"It's okay, Willow."   
  
"No, I should've watched where I was going and - and breathing, really." The redhead adjusted the books in her arms, moving away from Buffy. "I can go breathe somewhere else until you're done in the "F" section."   
  
Her hand of its own volition, grabbed Willow's wrist, stopping the girl's speedy getaway. "It's fine if you breathe here," Buffy smiled. "Really, there's no breathing restrictions in Buffy airspace."   
  
Willow visibly relaxed. "Oh, good, can't be too careful, you know," she grinned.   
  
An awkward silence fell between the two girls as they somewhat reluctantly turned back to the stack of books behind them. Buffy swallowed the lump that had mysteriously formed in her throat as she scanned the books once more:   
  
This was absolutely painful!   
  
A million questions floated around her in head.   
  
_So, what's the up, Willow?  
  
What brings you to the library, Willow?   
  
How have the last four years of your life been, Willow?   
  
Do you hate me, Willow?_   
  
All of which never quite made it out of her mouth. All she could manage to do was move soundlessly down the endless row of books and pretend to be searching for that goddamn paperback.   
  
Willow was the first to break the silence. "Never thought I'd see you here."   
  
Buffy gave her look.   
  
"Oh, well I mean," Willow bumbled, "I know you can read and all, I just never figured you the type of person to be hanging in the library on a Saturday."   
  
"You can thank William and my café mocha for that."   
  
"William?"   
  
Buffy nodded. "Weekend study session at the Bronze," she sighed and did an awful imitation of his accent, " 'don't forget your books, Buffy'."   
  
Willow laughed softly. "And the café mocha?"   
  
Buffy smiled sheepishly. "Got extremely acquainted with the school's copy of The Great Gatsby."   
  
"Ohh."   
  
"So, what brings you here?"   
  
Willow shrugged. "Nothing much, really. Just looking for a good book to curl up with tonight - and I really gotta get me a life, huh?"   
  
Buffy laughed. "Trust me," she began, sighing dejectedly as she pulled the ringing phone out of her purse. What part of 'Library' did Cecily not understand?! "Having a life isn't all it's cracked up to be," Buffy said as she unceremoniously turned her phone off.   
  
  
**   
  
  
Music pounding, tons of sweaty, teen bodies grinding up against each other on the dance floor, the Bronze just had to be full to capacity on the night Buffy had to lug her books along. She'd stumbled through an explanation the second her friends gave her those 'humor the mental patient' looks they were so damn good at giving.   
  
_Stupid William_.   
  
"I can't believe you're bringing that guy here," Riley gritted his teeth.   
  
"I'm not bringing him! He's showing up on his own!" Buffy shouted over the music. "And it's not like I have a choice."   
  
"Of course you didn't," he bit out sarcastically.   
  
Buffy cut her eyes at him. "I'm sure you know the importance of grades, Riley! If you didn't, you and Anya wouldn't be locked up in the Chem lab twenty-four-fucking-seven."   
  
"So, William will be here." Angel grabbed his girlfriend's hand and gave it a light squeeze in support. "He and Buffy will do the study thing, then he'll leave and no harm will come to the world. We can go back to trying to have a good time and everything will be exactly the same."   
  
"Ooh, hello salty goodness!"   
  
Cordelia's sudden cry sent everyone's heads turning in the direction of the door and Buffy's mouth went completely dry at the sight of him.   
  
It was obvious that no one else recognized him, but she would know William Hall anywhere and as she swallowed the lump in her throat, Buffy was left with the sinking feeling that nothing would ever be the same again.   
  
**Stepbrother**  
  
  
This was new…   
  
Spike’s lips curled into a smile; he was used to having all eyes on him, the laughing, mocking kind of eyes, but never, not even when he allowed himself moments of pure delusion had he experienced something like this.   
  
Somehow over the pounding music, he’d managed to hear Cordelia’s cry of ‘Ooh, salty goodness!’ and somehow through the sea of sweaty, hormone bombs, he’d managed to watch everyone in that brain-lite, popular circle of shallowness turn around and stare directly at him –   
  
Everything was in slow motion…   
  
One foot in front of the other he moved gracefully through the crowd towards them and laughed softly to himself at the absurdity of ‘Chariots of Fire’ being his internal soundtrack.   
  
Taking one last deep breath, he ignored the blatant ogling and wide-eyed amazement and stopped directly at Buffy’s side, casually focusing on only her he leaned in close and whispered in her ear…   
  
“Hope you brought those books."   
  
“Buffy, don’t be rude, introduce us to your friend," that was Cecily, his Cecily! Spike looked up to catch her smiling at him.   
  
And at that point, his whole world stopped spinning and exploded.   
  
“Yes, Buffy, please introduce us," Angel said, trying to sound cool and collected, but Spike could hear the poor boy’s teeth cracking as he gritted them.   
  
_Angel feels threatened…by me?!_   
  
Spike pulled a face, turning to Angel. “Easy there, mate. You’ve got nothing to worry about on my end; I wouldn’t touch Summers if she were the last bit of pussy left on the sodding planet…"   
  
Angel’s eyes widened. “Hey!"   
  
Buffy’s mouth dropped open in disgust. “ I believe that’s my ‘Hey!’! Hey! You asshole!" She punctuated that sentence with a sharp kick to his leg.   
  
“Ow!"   
  
“Are you all totally blind?!" she shouted climbing to her feet. “This putz is non other than Wi…" Buffy didn’t even manage to get the first syllable of his name out of her mouth before he brutally cut her off,   
  
“Name’s Spike," he smiled in Cecily’s direction.   
  
“Spike?" Anya frowned, turning to Buffy. “Spike like your old nickname for William, Spike?"   
  
Buffy pursed her lips and titled her head to the side. “Does sound a lot like it, doesn’t it…" she said sardonically.   
  
“No, Spike as in ‘was born with this name’, Spike." He turned to Buffy and gave her a brief, pleading look. “I’m Buffy’s stepbrother; dear old Hank spent some time in London, got real acquainted with my mum for a while there, didn’t he Buffy…?"   
  
She sighed loudly. _They’ll never by this crap._ “He sure did, Spike," she drawled out through clenched teeth.   
  
“You never told me you had a stepbrother," Cecily pouted.   
  
“Don’t feel bad, she never told me either," Angel said flatly.   
  
Cordelia extended her hand. “Hi, Spike, I’m Cordelia Chase, Sunnydale welcoming committee. If you need anything – you know, someone to talk to, a shoulder to cry on – to nibble on if you want…" Cordy seductively pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, “then I’m you’re gal."   
  
Spike gave the girl a short nod. “I’ll be sure to look you up sometime."   
  
“Sooo – my dear stepbrother," Buffy smirked, “where’s William? I lugged this heavy backpack all the way into the Bronze, in high heels, might I add, just to be prepared for his wonderful tutelage."   
  
Spike narrowed his eyes. “Guess he stood you up, luv."   
  
“You don’t say…"   
  
“Since I’m here and all, I’d be happy to help you out," he said curtly. “After all, a monkey could pass the course you’re having trouble with."   
  
Buffy slid out of her chair and grabbed her books. “Can we do this some place that’s else; I feel the need for a little private discussion."   
  
“Whatever you say, sweetheart."   
  
She gave Angel a quick peck on the cheek before grabbing the end of Spike’s red over-shirt, yanking him away. “Come on!"   
  
“Nice meeting you all!" he called back over his shoulder.   
  
  
  
There was a perfect, deafening silence at the Bronze table that housed Sunnydale High’s finest and chic. Their collective eyes were transfixed on the two bottle blondes who cut a swath through the crowd as they bolted towards the door.   
  
Riley mindlessly chewed on a handful of fries and shook his head, opening his mouth for the first time since that ‘stranger’ interrupted their fun. “I don’t like him," he stated simply, “those tight jeans are way too fruity."   
  
**   
  
The very second the warm night air hit his lungs, Spike doubled over in laughter. Loud, side aching guffaws that sent him collapsing to the pavement below.   
  
Hands on her hips and head titled, Buffy watched him roll around and resisted the urge to find something pointy and ram him through the heart with it –   
  
“Well, inappropriate laughter -- at least now I’ve got confirmation that you’ve gone bat-shit insane," she said dryly.   
  
“You saw that, right?!"   
  
“Yeah, had a peachy-keen front row seat…"   
  
“I mean, Cordelia hit on me…!"   
  
“You’re now one of many…"   
  
“And Cecily…" He slowly stood, his laughter finally dying down, “Cecily smiled at me! A real smile: a friendly smile! Not just in my general direction, that smile was meant for me and me only."   
  
“Are you always this pathetic?"   
  
Spike grinned. “And nothing you say can take away that moment."   
  
“Yeah, well, speaking of that little moment back there…Stepbrother?!" Buffy shouted. “Where the hell did that come from?! Granted, I’m deeply ashamed that they fell for it, but what was all of that?! And ‘Lets Do the Time Warp Again…’" She made a frenzied gesture towards his attire, “what’s with the look? Did you fall asleep and wake up in 1984?"   
  
“Nope," his grin widened, “I’m getting noticed – and getting closer and closer to winning this bet." Spike grabbed her wrist suddenly, dragging her down the walk. “Now, come on, let’s get this lesson out of the way."   
  
“Closer my ass," Buffy grumbled, jutting her bottom lip out as she reluctantly followed him.   
  
**The Bizarre-o World**  
  
  
 _Five Reasons Why I’m in the Bizarre-o World…  
By Buffy Summers   
5) Moved Cecily from #2 to #8 on my speed dial…   
4) Gave serious consideration to going makeup free the other morning just to be at school on time.   
3) I really want to call Willow…   
2) Cecily really smiled at him… _  
  
“Oi! That quiz isn’t 200 questions long! I’m not gonna be stuck here all night."   
  
“Huh?"   
  
He frowned and pointed to the test in her lap. “Hurry it up, would you. It’s half-past two in the bloody morning; I do want to sleep tonight, you know."   
  
“Oh," Buffy muttered tucking away the list she’d scribbled on a spare sheet of paper. The forgotten quiz she’d finished almost thirty minutes ago now back on top of her notebook; she studied her answers closely, erasing where necessary. Can’t have them all right -- I do have an image to protect…   
  
**#5: The light at the end of Daisy’s dock represents what?**  
  
Erasing the right answer, she quickly scrawled ‘A signal for ships’ underneath the question, then shoved the quiz into Spike’s impatient hands.   
  
“Bout time."   
  
“You know, if someone had utilized the Bronze’s parking lot instead of parking six blocks away, then that someone wouldn’t be stuck at my house at…" she leaned over, looking past him to catch a glimpse of the clock, and sneered, “2:40 in the morning…"   
  
“Did you really want to be seen driving away in a Volvo?"   
  
That sneer quickly disappeared. “Point taken."   
  
Spike snickered. “Never underestimate the depths of your shallowness – or your stupidity," he paused and pulled a face holding up the quiz, “a ship signal?"   
  
She shrugged.   
  
“And I had no idea that Tom was completely fascinated by Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus," Spike said snidely and Buffy quietly giggled. That had been her favorite answer…   
  
“You’re completely hopeless," he sighed, rubbing his eyes with a frustrated growl. “Buggering hell…"   
  
“What?" she asked. “Pretend I care."   
  
“Damn contacts," another growl, “itch like hell…"   
  
Shaking her head, Buffy grabbed her purse, furiously rummaging through it until she pulled out a small, white bottle and pushed him back against the mattress.   
  
“What the fuck…" “Oh, shut up, you big baby," she said straddling his waist. Expertly, she leaned over, golden hair draping his face, and propped his left eye open with one hand, while the other held the drops at ready.   
  
_Whoa, talk about blue…_   
  
Rain-washed, deep ocean, midnight blue – Buffy stopped herself from thinking up any more unnecessary adjectives to describe the color of his eyes. She didn’t remember them being that color. Must’ve been one of those things that faded over time as they grew farther and farther apart. She just assumed they would be brown or a dull gray, like the rest of Willie used to be…   
  
_But this isn’t Wee-Willie…_   
  
She lightly squeezed the bottle. “Didn’t know Freshlook made ‘em that blue," she prattled absently, moving her attention to his right eye.   
  
“These are clear."   
  
Two more drops. “Oh," Buffy muttered. Pulling back on her knees, she tucked her hair behind her ears and held the bottle of drops in front of his face. “Re-wetting drops; essential for any contact lens wearer. I suggest you stop by Walgreen’s and pick up a bottle of your very own."   
  
Spike hesitated. “Thanks."   
  
“No problem, stepbrother," she chortled.   
  
“Yeah, about that…" he sighed, brow furrowed, “I actually didn’t mean for that to come out of my mouth – wasn’t a part of some grand scheme or anything."   
  
“And you expect me to go along with the lame charade?"   
  
“I just – I couldn’t let Cecily know who I really am, Buffy. This is a clean slate," a smile slowly crossed his lips. “You saw her, I would’ve never gotten that smile if she’d known she was talking directly to William Hall. I have a real shot at getting close to her this way."   
  
“There’s still Riley."   
  
“All the more reason why you shouldn’t be worried about me winning."   
  
“I’m not worried."   
  
He snorted. “Right, luv."   
  
She pouted. “I’m really not."   
  
“Uh-huh."   
  
“Cecily and Riley have this whole ‘tortured teen romance’ act going for them," she informed him. “They fight, they fuck; it’s an endless mess they drag all of their friends into but at the end of the day, they’re still together. He’s still all she thinks about. No makeover is going to change that."   
  
Spike trained his eyes directly on hers. “Maybe its time she had something other than White-bread," he said curtly.   
  
Buffy’s gaze just as hard, she leaned closer to his face. “And maybe its time you stopped crushing on someone you can’t have."   
  
Spike took a deep breath and closed his eyes tightly, as if he were pulling himself together, and let his lips curl up into a nasty sneer.   
  
“How’s the view from the top, pet?" He waggled his eyebrows at her.   
  
“Wha--?" Turning nine shades of red the second she realized she was still straddling him, Buffy silently rolled off and clung to the end of the opposite side of the bed as far away from Spike as humanly possible.   
  
He snickered. “Don’t tell me little Buffy’s gotten shy all of a sudden."   
  
“The last time ‘Little Buffy’ was on top of you like that, you were in Darkwing Duck pajamas," Buffy glared, “and it was for Mr. Gordo rescuing purposes only…"   
  
“I loved those pajamas," Spike smiled, staring up at the ceiling. “Made my package look big."   
  
She laughed a loud, genuine laugh and he found himself flashing her his pearly whites. He hadn’t heard her laugh like that in years…   
  
“Do you think Cecily will like my package?"   
  
Buffy snorted. “Yeah, if it called itself ‘Riley’."   
  
He turned on his side, facing her and propped his head up in his hand. “You really know how to shit on a fellow’s parade, you know that?"   
  
“I’m just being real."   
  
“Well, allow me to get a little ‘real’ for a moment here, pet. You and Captain Forehead have been dating for what? Four years now…?"   
  
“Yeah…" Buffy said slowly, pursing her lips, “your point?"   
  
Spike gave her a venomous smile. “I’m just saying – four years, that’s a long time to go without…" He let his eyes roam over her form lecherously, “prying apart those dimpled knees. How do you know your over grown choir boy isn’t shagging some other bint on the side then running back to you, virtue fleeting?"   
  
“Angel wouldn’t do that." Her voice wavered and for a moment Spike regretted saying those things. But it was her fault! If she wouldn’t specialize in cutting him down every five seconds, then he wouldn’t have to unleash and feel something like remorse for hurting her precious feelings…   
  
“Of course he wouldn’t."   
  
Buffy glared at him before crawling across the bed towards the pile of books. She picked up his notebooks and the paperback and without hesitation threw them at Spike’s head.   
  
“Lesson over," she said harshly, ignoring his cry of pain. “Get. Out."   
  
“Oh, it’s fine for you to play ‘Kick the Spike’, but the Princess can’t take it when the heat’s turned on her!" he growled, clutching his throbbing head as he rolled off the bed.   
  
“That’s not playing – that’s…"   
  
“What?! I cross a line? Did I hit a nerve, sweetheart?! Cause, the way I see it, you’re the last person on the sodding planet who should be crying about having her feelings hurt!" Spike angrily stuffed his belongings into his backpack and slung it over his shoulder. “Suddenly you become gorgeous and I become a prominent member of Cordelia’s ‘Know and Recognize Your Loser’s’ list and I guess in the insane troll logic of Buffy Summers, that makes it ok to turn your back on your best friend. What I said doesn’t even come close to four years of hurt feelings! So, call up the boy toy and moan to him about what ‘Big, Bad William’ said to you; cause I don’t take it back."   
  
There was never a time, in all of her eighteen years, that Buffy had ever felt more low.   
  
Underneath the glaringly white hair, the black tee and black jeans was William. Sweet William who’d camped out at her house for a week straight, just because she thought there were monsters in her closet. Who bought her a Barbie card (cause he knew it was her favorite) and a little box of those conversation hearts, every Valentine’s Day. This was William who’d held her tight and let her cry herself to sleep the day her dad finally decided to leave…   
  
“You hungry?" she asked suddenly.   
  
He cocked his head questioningly. “Huh?"   
  
“I said, are you hungry?" Buffy repeated, moving towards the door. “I know it’s like three in the morning, and I’m breaking all kinds of dietary rules but I could really use an omelet. Do you want one?"   
  
“Sure…" Spike said slowly, putting the backpack down on the bed. _A scientific team really needs to be assembled to study this chit’s train of thought…_   
  
A small smile. “Good."   
  
“You know, _Mystery Science Theater 3000_ is on," he said casually, following her out of the room.   
  
“Shut up!" Buffy cried in disbelief, “That still comes on?!"   
  
“Re-runs anyway." Spike grumbled, “Blighter’s canceled it. Didn’t know what a good thing they had, I suppose."   
  
“We so have to watch that!"   
  
“Right," he chuckled, “and we will. As soon as you cook me breakfast."   
  
“Who said anything about me doing all of the cooking…"   
  
_Bizarre-o World Reason #1…  
  
Called a truce with Spike._   
  
**SINEP**  
  
  
 _She was staring at him. He could feel it.  
  
Spike was trying damn hard to pay attention to Crowe’s latest crack about the god-awful ‘Devil Doll’ movie they were forced to watch, but he couldn’t concentrate with Buffy’s beady, little eyes boring holes into his skull.   
  
"What?"   
  
"Nothing." Buffy shrugged.   
  
He turned to her and briefly put his face close to hers, studying her features. "No, not nothing," he deduced, pulling away. "You don’t have ‘nothing’ face."   
  
"I can’t hear Servo with you talking," she snapped good-naturedly and punched him in the arm.   
  
Spike smiled. "Go ahead and say what’s on your mind, Summers."   
  
"Nothing’s on my mind!" She threw her hands up in the air exasperated. "I swear, it’s completely blank up here. Really, my head’s a gaping hole of blackness occupied only by hockey playing chimps and ‘Wake Me Up, Before You Go-Go’ for some strange reason."   
  
"You’re lying."   
  
"Am not!"   
  
"Are so!"   
  
"Am not!"   
  
"Are…" He stopped himself with a sigh. If this went any further, Spike feared he would actually regress to five years old. "Buffy, ‘He who knows you sleep with stuffed animals’, here," Spike said pointing to himself. "I can always tell when you’re lying; you’re so bloody awful at it. So, cut the crap. Spill it already."   
  
Buffy worried her bottom lip between her teeth. "You really think Angel’s cheating on me?"   
  
He took a deep breath. "Look, what I said before…"   
  
"I know it was an ‘I hurt you – you hurt me’ kind of deal," she paused, "but you had a point. Some guys have this Neanderthal, Penis = Special Needs mentality…maybe Angel’s one of those guys…"   
  
"Oh, balls!" Spike gave a dismissive wave of his hand. "There’s no way that poofter would have stuck with you all of these years if he was so unsatisfied. And even if he is, I’m sure the minute you suck him off right and proper, he’ll be a happy camper."   
  
Buffy scrunched her face up, truly disgusted. "When did you turn into such a pig, Spike."_   
  
  
  
Buffy felt her entire mouth go dry –   
  
This was absolutely the last time she took anything Spike said in the literal sense.   
  
Angel’s hands were tangled in her hair and he was still panting hard. Part arousal and part shock from being shoved into a janitor’s closet by his tiny girlfriend, she was sure.   
  
She’d completely done it on a whim; her conversation with Spike from the night before was playing in her mind as she and Angel rounded the corner on their way to homeroom. And there it was, left wide open by Mrs. Jenkins only moments before and glowing with some kind of mystical, holy light. Buffy didn’t think or second guess, simply reacted, and managed to push the bulky jock inside and quickly shut the door behind them.   
  
She’d only startled Angel further when she practically attacked his mouth, but any protests or reservations the boy may have had disappeared the second he watched her drop to her knees.   
  
"Something wrong, baby?" Angel choked out.   
  
Wrong?! Buffy was face to face with his dick and she suddenly realized that – she had no clue what the hell she was doing!   
  
"Uh – um…" she stuttered, still unable to find her voice. This wrinkly, purple thing was staring her down! Is it supposed to be purple? Maybe it’s the florescents…? It was taunting her! Yeah, the way penises always do… she mentally kicked herself for these ridiculous thoughts and Buffy watched in utter fascination as pre-cum dribbled from the tip, and that’s when the bell rang—   
  
_Oh, thank god_!   
  
"Bell!" she squeaked jumping to her feet.   
  
"What?!" Angel shouted with a squeak of his own, "Buffy, I can’t go to class like this!" He pointed at his rock hard cock. This wasn’t a case that could be taken care of by thinking about baseball stats or Dame Edna in a bikini. Even if he could manage to wrestle it back in his pants, there was sure to be the proverbial tent-age. People looked up to him in this school and he wasn’t going to leave Sunnydale High with the memory of a raging hard-on emblazoned on his good image.   
  
"It’ll only take a second, baby. Please…" Angel paused, frowning suddenly. "Um, just forget the it taking a second part…"   
  
Buffy grabbed her books and tried desperately to smooth her hair down. "I’ve gotta go," she said weakly and practically flew out of the door slamming it behind her.   
  
Angel gritted his teeth and closed his eyes…   
  
It was going to be a long, long day.   
  
**   
  
Anya Jenkins had a sixth sense about things. She’d heard that all of her life: "There goes our little psychic," her parents would say proudly. To her, sensing was more about taking the time to pay attention to the little things people did and less about being a prettier and female version of John Edward.   
  
When she strolled into Mr. Anders first period Chemistry that morning, Anya immediately felt something was off – and the offness was coming from Buffy’s general direction.   
  
She gracefully slid into the desk next to her friend and flashed her a sweet smile. "What are you doing here?"   
  
"Well, when your name’s on the roll, they kinda expect you to show up." Buffy gave her a look, "What do you mean ‘What am I doing here’?"   
  
"The bell hasn’t rung yet and you’re never on time…" She paused, adding, "for anything!"   
  
"Must be a side affect of all of that studying I’ve been doing lately," Buffy giggled nervously. "Turning me into a learning eager beaver…"   
  
Anya squinted and leaned closer to her. "And your hair…"   
  
"What’s wrong with my hair?" Buffy squeaked, her hand shooting up to her mane.   
  
"That strand is out of place," Anya handily informed her, "and we all know how anal you are when it comes to your hair, and you would never let that happen…" Suddenly, she gasped as the biggest, brightest smile broke out on her face. "Oh my god! You have sex hair!"   
  
Buffy blanched; thanks to Anya all attention in the room was now on her and she shot her friend a dirty look.   
  
"Could you be a little louder, Ahn? I don’t think they heard you in Yemen."   
  
"Well, thank god you and Angel finally did it," Anya sighed happily. "I was worried the poor boy’s penis would finally explode from four years of blue balls." She titled her head thoughtfully, "What a waste that would be…"   
  
Buffy glared. "We did not ‘do it’."   
  
"There’s no mistaking the hair."   
  
"We didn’t! I was…"   
  
"Good morning, everyone!" The chipper voice of Mr. Anders startled Buffy and she quickly turned away and struck the model student pose at her desk.   
  
"Today is the only review session for your final exam I’ll be doing in class, so your strict attention is of the utmost importance. I’m not doing this for me. It’s for your benefit alone…"   
  
Anya flipped open her notebook and tore out a piece of paper:   
  
  
  
**What did you do to get the sex hair**?   
  
She scribbled and deftly passed the note to Buffy.   
  
"Your exam will consist of 200 questions; no more, no less. A mixture of multiple choice and short answer…"   
  
  
  
**Tried to…**   
  
  
  
Buffy took a deep breath, putting her embarrassment aside and finished out the sentence,   
  
  
  
**Tried to give Angel a blowjob**.   
  
  
  
"The test covers half of chapter thirty and all of chapters twenty-three, twenty-two, and twenty-one. I know some of you had trouble with chapter twenty-one; you may want to focus your attention on that section when studying…"   
  
  
  
**What do you mean tried? How do you try? Blowjobs are easy to give and quite enjoyable…**  
  
  
  
Buffy stifled a laugh.   
  
  
  
**I dunno… I panicked. I didn’t know what to do exactly…**   
  
  
  
"There are simple conversion questions – it’s extremely important that you leave here knowing how to do those…"   
  
  
  
**Come by my house after school. I’ll make diagrams.**   
  
  
  
**Heh. You can’t be serious…**   
  
  
  
"Ms. Summers, Ms. Jenkins, am I interrupting something?" Mr. Anders gave them stern looks.   
  
"No, not at all," Anya chirped brightly, "please continue."   
  
The sound of snickers throughout his classroom caused the teacher to train a deadly glare on Anya. _Damn kids making a fool out of me_. "Oh no, Ms. Jenkins. It would be rude of me to talk when you and Ms. Summers obviously have more important business to attend to. As a matter of fact," he smirked nastily, and folded his arms over his chest, "why don’t you stand and share it with the rest of the class. I’m sure we’re all dying to know what excellent students such as yourselves are passing notes about while I go over the final."   
  
"No problem," Anya said, climbing to her feet.   
  
Buffy’s eyes widened. "What?! Anya!"   
  
"Buffy and I were talking about SINEP," she stated. "Her boyfriend Angel’s SINEP in particular…"   
  
Mr. Anders quirked a brow. "SINEP?"   
  
"See, Angel loves his SINEP and Buffy wanted to be able to please it and make him happier. I was simply offering her my help."   
  
"Right…" the older man said slowly, shaking his head, "please take your seat Ms. Jenkins."   
  
Anya nodded, easing herself back into the desk. The utterly confused look on Xander Harris’ face caught her attention and she turned to the boy on her right and whispered:   
  
"SINEP is PENIS spelled backwards, Xander."   
  
**Carpet Cleaner**  
  
  
“Did you know “sinep" is “penis" spelled backwards?"   
  
Willow stirred around the ultra lumpy mashed potatoes on her tray and sighed heavily. “Huh?"   
  
Xander raised a brow. “Nothing – just something I actually learned in chemistry today. What’s with the Willow frown-y face?" He smiled warmly before making a retching sound at the meatloaf covered in gravy the cafeteria lady swore passed for eatable, “You know I can’t stand to see the Willow frown-y face."   
  
“When’s the last time you saw William?" she asked looking up from her food.   
  
“I just saw him the other…" Xander paused, “last week," he sighed. “Haven’t exactly heard from him after our mall adventures."   
  
Willow nodded. “Me either and he hasn’t been at school. Not that he needed to be here anyway, but you know, William wouldn’t ruin his perfect attendance record for just anything."   
  
The two friends exchanged worried looks before simultaneously turning their attention on the large, round crowded table off towards the back of the cafeteria, both zeroing in on the blonde huddled over her food –   
  
Xander absently took a sip of his milk. “Think maybe the search should center on Buffy’s backyard?"   
  
“Xander…"   
  
He shrugged. “What? It’s possible." Off of Willow’s look Xander added, “Remember in the third grade when we were all playing at Buff’s and your ‘Suzy Wets Herself’ doll went missing? I’m telling you, the Summers backyard is a gate for unspeakable evil…"   
  
“William’s probably sick." She rolled her eyes. “We should go by there after school."   
  
“Or call the police…"   
  
“He’s not buried in her backyard, Xander."   
  
“Are you really sure about that?"   
  
**   
  
“Ugh, I must’ve had a complete lapse in sanity," Cordelia made a face as she dramatically slid into her seat at the table and pushed the offending tray in Buffy’s direction. “I dunno why the hell I picked this up – hotdogs make me retch. Mystery meat in a tube? Who’s bright idea was that?" she shuddered, “Buffy do you want?"   
  
Buffy absently stirred around the lumpy mashed potatoes on her tray, head down, seemingly ignoring her friend…   
  
“Hello? Earth to Buffy…"   
  
“Huh?" she jerked her head up, coming face to face with Cordy’s unwanted hotdog.   
  
“Do you want this thing or not?"   
  
Eyes widening, Buffy could feel her cheeks flaming – never before, to her, had a hotdog looked so much like that other thing…   
  
“No thanks," she replied weakly.   
  
“Whatever," Cordy sighed, “I’ll give it to Riley, he’ll eat anything."   
  
“Are we still on for my place after school?" Anya plopped down next to Buffy. “Ooh, hotdog…" She greedily snatched Cordelia’s food and took a big bite.   
  
“After school for what?" Cordy asked, closely inspecting a soggy French fry before dropping it back on her tray with a sigh of disgust.   
  
“Chemistry final study session," Anya brightly informed her, “oh and Buffy wanted detailed instructions on how to give great blowjobs…"   
  
Cordelia snorted. “She wouldn’t even eat the hotdog."   
  
“Tact is a completely foreign concept to the both of you, isn’t it?" Buffy glared.   
  
“Tact is just not saying true stuff," Cordelia handily supplied, a wide grin suddenly breaking out on her face. “So, that’s why Angel was late to first period…"   
  
“As much as I want to see your diagrams, Anya, I have a mandatory study sesh at Spike’s," Buffy sighed heavily then grumbled sarcastically, “who the hell needs a high school diploma these days."   
  
“You’re studying with Spike?" Cordelia asked, taking a bite of her salad. “What, did he take over for ‘Wee-Willie?’ "   
  
“Um, yeah…sorta," Buffy lied. “And Spike’s just as not fun to put up with."   
  
“I could come over to Spike’s with you," Anya beamed. “I’m sure he won’t mind."   
  
“Yeah, sure Ahn," Buffy said absently, her eyes roaming back to her food. “I’m not even sure if these are potatoes…"   
  
Cordelia leaned in, dropping her voice to just above a whisper. “You know Willie hasn’t been seen for like a whole week?! I heard some drug dealers were after his insane-o sister and he was killed as a warning."   
  
Buffy rolled her eyes. “That’s not true."   
  
“I’m just telling you what I heard," Cordelia said flippantly.   
  
“And his sister’s not crazy," Buffy shot back defensively. “Sure, she’s been through some stuff, but she’s not…"   
  
“Oh please," Cordelia cut her off with an eye roll of her own, “that girl’s two Valiums passed functional."   
  
Buffy narrowed her eyes. “You don’t know anything about her Cordy, so drop it."   
  
“Okay, okay," Cordelia threw up her hands, “you don’t have to get all unnecessarily touchy. I don’t see what the big deal is, it’s not like you care or anything."   
  
Buffy angrily stabbed her fork down into her ‘mashed potatoes’; of course she didn’t care! She got over feeling sorry for Spike’s screwed up family unit a long time ago – but that didn’t mean just anybody could talk about Dru…   
  
“You’re right, I don’t care."   
  
**   
  
“Something’s going on with William, I’m sure of it," Anna Hall whispered dramatically into the phone as she poured her cup of coffee. Manuvering around the kitchen island, cup in hand and phone held up by her shoulder, she grabbed the plate of eggs and managed to slide onto the barstool without missing a beat.   
  
“He claims he’s sick, so I’ve let him stay out of school for three days now, but get this mum, I caught him sneaking in at seven in the morning Sunday – yes, William!" she cried in disbelief, mouth full of food. “And you won’t believe what he’s done to his hair…"   
  
For Anna, appearances were everything. Once upon a time, when her husband made the careless, but tiny mistake of not paying his taxes for the previous five years, all eyes in Sunnydale were on she and her family. They watched the Repo trucks pull up to her beautiful home, stood by as those sweaty workers carted out all of her belongings, and shook their heads in pity when the Hall family was forced to move into a less than swanky home across town.   
  
And then there was Drusilla…   
  
A disappointment of a whole nother color.   
  
“I’m worried about him, is all. Dressing strange and talking more and more like his sister – I won’t let that happen to him. Did I tell you he was accepted to Dartmouth? William’s the only bright spot this family has, and I’ll be damned if I let him end up like Drusilla…"   
  
The sound of the kitchen door swinging on its hinges caught her attention and Anna turned, suddenly finding herself face to face with her daughter.   
  
Dru casually flipped her hair and folded her arms; she’d heard everything,   
  
“Are my eggs ready yet, mummy?" she said wryly.   
  
Anna gave her a patronizing smile. “Yes dear, they’re ready; all nice and fluffy, just the way you like ‘em."   
  
“Tell grandmummy I said ‘hello’," Dru called over her shoulder as she casually took down a plate from the cabinet.   
  
“I’ll give you a ring later, mum," Anna quickly whispered into the phone, “bye." Painful smile etched on her face, she turned to face her daughter, “Dru, honey, why don’t you run upstairs and see if your brother’s hungry as well, huh?"   
  
“William doesn’t like eggs."   
  
“Well, he doesn’t have to have eggs," the older woman sighed, “I can fix him something else."   
  
“But it’s time for eggs." Drusilla leaned in close to her plate and sniffed before lightly poking her eggs with a fork. “Thought you said these were fluffy…?"   
  
“Could you do what I ask for once!" Anna shouted suddenly, startling her daughter. “Christ sakes Dru, just go upstairs!"   
  
Plate in hand, and a rather solemn look on her face, Dru gave her mother a tiny nod of her head,   
  
“Yes, mum."   
  
**   
  
“I’m telling you, Willow, we shouldn’t rule out the backyard…"   
  
“And I’m telling you, Xander, that I stopped listening to you about an hour ago…" Willow smiled sweetly as she flipped between radio stations. Finding anything worth listening to was virtually impossible in Xander’s car – mostly the broken antenna on the back was only good for picking up static; not even the tennis ball Xander had shoved on the end of it ceremoniously helped.   
  
“Doesn’t Buffy have a well?" he asked, giving Willow a sidelong glance.   
  
She gave him a look. “I don’t remember, why?"   
  
“ ‘It puts the lotion on its skin or else it gets the hose again…’"   
  
“For the last time," Willow sighed heavily, “William’s not buried in her backyard!"   
  
**   
In four years of being friends, Buffy realized she and Anya had never spent time alone. Piled in a car with Riley or Angel behind the wheel, part of the whole when hanging out, sure. But one on one – a trip to the mall perhaps, or maybe an afternoon of 90210 reruns at each other’s respective houses, never happened.   
  
Not that she didn’t like Anya. On the contrary: outside of Angel and sometimes Cordelia, Anya was fast becoming the only person in the group Buffy didn’t throw up a little in her mouth upon the sight of.   
  
But now that she was here, strapped in Anya’s lime green Beetle (with the license plate ‘DEMON’ on the back), Buffy suspected not hanging out with Anya all these years must’ve been an unconscious effort to keep herself alive.   
  
“The finish line is almost heere – and someone softly whispers in my eearr…!"   
  
The blonde’s hand’s clung to the seat for dear life as Anya swerved through traffic while singing loud and off key along to the CD.   
  
“Times like these – are memories – to hold deep down inside of you and meee…!"   
  
A chorus of horns sounded in Buffy’s ear the moment Anya decided to careen from the far left lane, four lanes over to the far right – without any kind of signal at all.   
  
Swallowing the lump in her throat and resisting the urge to cry, Buffy breathed, “Oh, god!"   
  
Turning the CD player down, Anya grinned. “Almost missed the exit."   
  
Buffy nodded dumbly and whipped the sweat from her forehead.   
  
“Why didn’t you tell me Spike lived all the way across town?" she asked conversationally. “I’m gonna need at least ten for gas. Twenty, if I stop on the interstate. Haven’t decided yet."   
  
“Whatever you want." As casually as possible, Buffy glanced over at her friend, wide-eyed. “Ahn, you did know you have the parking brake on, right?"   
  
“Oh, thanks," she chuckled, releasing the brake. “You know what would be cool?" Anya turned to Buffy smiling brightly. “Driving by gesturing emphatically." She took her hands off of the wheel and began gesturing at the road. “Imagine if all you had to do was this…"   
  
“Hands on the wheel! Hands on the wheel!"   
  
**   
  
As he pulled his loveable hunk of junk car into the Hall’s driveway, the almost ungodly sound of tires screeching across the road caught Xander’s attention. Whipping his head around he spotted the Beetle racing down the tiny residential area – straight towards them.   
  
“Holy moly!" he cried out earning a look from Willow.   
  
“What?" she asked turning in the direction he was facing. Her round eyes widened to comically huge proportions. “That’s Anya!"   
  
“Is the DMV just handing out licenses to any psycho these days," Xander exclaimed, “instead of putting them through a slack screening process like the good lord intended!"   
  
The teenagers watched in amazement as the tiny car whizzed by the Hall’s driveway in a speed that must have been mere hairs away from breaking the sound barrier – only to back up, equally as fast and pull in behind them, stopping inches away from Xander’s bumper.   
  
Willow and Xander exchanged worried looks before getting out of the car. The Beetle’s passenger side door flew open, and with one Gucci in front of the other, Anya climbed out nary a, hair out of place and gracefully perched her sunglasses on the top of her head.   
  
Anya smiled brightly and waved. “Xander and Leaves! What are you doing here?!"   
  
“Praying for any human being who finds themselves on the road with you," Xander deadpanned.   
  
Willow frowned. “And it’s ‘Willow’," she said as politely as possible.   
  
“Oh." Anya shrugged. “ ‘Leaves’, ‘Willow’ -- I knew it was something to do with trees. Who the hell cares anyway, right?"   
  
Willow pulled her lips into a tight smile and mumbled, “The girl whose parent’s did not name ‘Leaves’."   
  
Finally, the passenger door slowly opened and with one shaky, sneaker clad foot in front of the other, a very pale Buffy made her exit. She swallowed hard and clutched her stomach. At this moment, she didn’t give a damn about riding in a Volvo there was no way she was going back with Anya…   
  
“Great. Guess we picked the wrong day to drop by – looks like we’ve crashed the Princess’s edumacation." Xander’s loud grumble was the thing that snapped Buffy out of paralyzing fear and she realized her two former friends and Anya were staring directly at her.   
  
Meek smile on her lips Buffy took a few steps closer. “Hey, Willow."   
  
The redhead smiled warmly. “Hey, Buffy."   
  
Her attention now on the boy, Buffy nodded curtly. “Hey, Xand."   
  
Xander shook his head in disgust, grabbing Willow’s wrist. “C’mon, lets go check on Wi…"   
  
“Spike!" Buffy shouted suddenly, earning a look from the others.   
  
“I know it’s been a while since we’ve been in one another’s presence, Buff – but did you always have Tourette’s or did this suddenly develop?"   
  
Buffy laughed a little too loudly. “Haha! You’re still so funny, Xander!" She turned to Anya. “They’re here to see Spike – is what he was going to say, before I rudely said it for him. You know, Ahn, I don’t think it’s such a good idea for you to be here. You know, I’m gonna be all engrossed with the – the studying, and maybe we should just do this some other time…"   
  
“Nonsense!" Anya chirped. “I promised you diagrams and you will have diagrams today, missy!" Anya punctuated that sentence with a slap to Buffy’s back. “I’m sure that hunky stepbrother of yours won’t mind at all. He can even photocopy a few, to give to future girlfriends for reference."   
  
“Stepbrother?!" Xander looked at Anya as if she were insane. “What the hell are you…"   
  
“I know, it’s easy to forget that Spike’s my stepbrother you guys! What, with us not seeing that much of each other any more," Buffy quickly covered. “Ahn, why don’t you go and knock while I catch up with Willow and Xander."   
  
With a shrug, Anya headed off towards the door as Willow and Xander found themselves being yanked to the side by Buffy.   
  
“I know this makes the kind of sense that doesn’t, but while Anya’s here, Spike’s my stepbro and you don’t call him William," Buffy whispered harshly. “He’ll explain everything later."   
  
Xander crossed his arms over his chest. “Give me one good reason why we should do anything for you?"   
  
Buffy narrowed her eyes. “This isn’t for me, knucklehead." She huffed loudly, “Can’t believe I’m saying this – it’s for Spike. Play along."   
  
Willow grabbed his arm, dragging Xander towards the door. “You heard her, knucklehead."   
  
**   
  
“What a modest house you have!" Anya exclaimed as Anna let the four teenagers inside.   
  
The older woman looked at the girl oddly and shook her head. This one’s mother must’ve dropped her more than once… “Um, thank you – I think. He’s upstairs, I’ll…"   
  
“I’ll go up and tell him we’re here!" Buffy said racing for the stairs. “You know how much, Spike hates surprises…"   
  
“We sure do, Buff." Xander grinned sarcastically.   
  
Giving the boy a withering glance, Buffy continued on her way up the stairs and called back, “Be back in a sec!"   
  
Once at the top of the stairs, Buffy slumped against the nearest wall and put a hand to her head. If she made it through this evening without inflicting some sort of trauma to Xander’s manly bits, it would be a miracle. And oh, yeah, there was still Anya – sweet Anya, who at this moment, is probably informing Mrs. Hall that she’s here to give a lesson on the finer points of blowjobs while asking if they have a scanner…   
  
With a deep breath, the blonde moved from the safety of that wall just two steps to the right. In front of the slightly ajar door where the sound of Joey Ramone crooning the lyrics to ‘I Don’t Care’ in his faux British glory, were pouring out into the hallway.   
  
Buffy pushed open the door a little more opened her mouth to speak, and stopped cold.   
  
With his back turned to her and face fixed in the mirror on his dresser, stood a very wet, and very naked Spike…   
  
A tiny ‘eep!’ escaped her mouth as Buffy quickly jumped back out into the hall, slamming herself against the wall just outside of his bedroom. He must’ve just gotten out of the shower and by the looks of things was having trouble getting his contacts in – thank god he’s as blind as Ray Charles – she would have been so embarrassed and…   
  
_Oh My god! I just saw Spike naked_!   
  
Buffy’s eyes shot up in the top her head at the stupid childish thought her brain had cooked up. She’d seen naked guys! Plenty of naked guys – not in a slutty way, of course – and it wasn’t like she’d never, seen Spike naked before…   
  
_But we were five – and he didn’t have an ass like that at five…_   
  
Mentally kicking the bad brain for letting that slip into her consciousness, Buffy shut her eyes and tried to regain some sort of cool. As far as nakedness goes, Spike was nothing to drool over…   
  
_Liar_ … bad brain screamed at her.   
  
“Am not!" Buffy whispered aloud to herself, her head turning in the direction of the bedroom door. From what she saw, Spike’s body wasn’t anything to write home about – really… but, to be fair she hadn’t actually gotten a good look, being stunned and shocked with a side of utterly mortified and all…   
  
Slowly of its, own volition her head, peeked around and her eyes found that perfect, little crack in the door. He was still standing in front of the mirror – grumbling, well, she couldn’t hear the grumbling over the gritty sound of clunky guitars, but the body language said ‘grumbling’…   
  
Okay, she had to admit Spike was –   
  
_Perfect…_? Bad brain offered and she vehemently shook her head. No, not perfect, anything but perfect. Even if he was impossibly lean and muscular, with well-defined arms and legs, and even if she was closely watching a tiny water droplet make its way down his back, heading towards the curve of his –   
  
Buffy yanked herself way from the door and took another deep, much needed breath. “This is stupid," she mouthed, “I have Angel! It’s Spike for Christ sake, pull it together!"   
  
Unconsciously, she straightened out her top and smoothed down her hair as she moved back toward the infamous bedroom door. This time, however, Buffy knocked.   
  
The volume on the music suddenly lowered, and Spike shouted, “What?!"   
  
“Little Tree’s come for her lesson!" Buffy said as sarcastic as possible.   
  
“Uh – alright! Give us a sec, will ya?"   
  
Impatiently tapping her foot, Buffy made sure to shoot him a cross look when Spike finally snatched open the door and stuck his head out in the hall.   
  
“Just got out of the shower," he said, frowning at her as he moved out of the way to let her inside, “it’s not like I made you wait an eternity, Princess. Unless…" Spike grinned at her lecherously, “you’d rather I be naked…"   
  
_Only if you wanna be…_ “As if," Buffy said scrunching up her face before an evil smile broke out on her lips. “Besides, I didn’t bring my microscope."   
  
He cut his eyes at her. “Very funny."   
  
“But, what I did bring is Anya."   
  
“You what?!"   
  
She laughed sheepishly. “She kinda wants to – draw some things for me. You weren’t at school, and she offered me a ride…"   
  
“Are you completely daft!" Spike yelled, “It could blow my cover!"   
  
“Also…" Buffy began with a weary smile, “Willow and Xander sort of decided today was the day to pay you a visit. They’re all downstairs…"   
  
“Buggering hell!" he roared.   
  
“But…" Buffy piped up, “I did a good thing – which you can repay me for later. Willow and Xand are gonna go along with your lame charade. I didn’t tell them the details, figured you could do that, but I did manage to get Xand to stop insulting me long enough to agree to help you out." She shrugged with a rueful smile. “Gotta count for something, right?"   
  
Spike curiously titled his head to the side, regarding her for a moment, before he smiled.   
  
“Thanks."   
  
She smiled back. “You’re welcome."   
  
**   
  
“If the man chooses to cum inside of the woman, when she finally gets up, it all runs back out. What I imagine to be not a very pleasant sight for him, and just messy for her." Anya shook her head. “You have no idea how hard sperm is to get out of carpet. Near impossible!"   
  
Seated comfortably on the Hall’s living room couch, Xander and Willow, mouths agape and eyes as wide as saucers listened with full attention to everything Anya was saying. Xander slowly turned to Willow and casually asked, “Do you have any idea how this topic started?"   
  
“I think Mrs. Hall said something about being out of carpet cleaner," Willow answered him flatly.   
  
“Oh, and sex in the shower – sure it looks all sexy on TV, but what they don’t tell you is that you’re just all sticky afterwards and certainly not clean," Anya continued to babble, “and your spendings take on this – this booger-y quality. That’s almost as bad as the carpet…"   
  
“Anya!" Buffy shouted from behind her.   
  
Anya turned away from the stunned Willow and Xander to find an equally wide-eyed Buffy and Spike. She smiled casually at the two and gestured for them to have a seat. “Good, you guys are just in time. I don’t know about you, Spike, but being a virgin, Buffy could definitely benefit from our discussion."   
  
Cheeks flaming, but curiosity getting the better of her, Buffy plopped down into an empty chair and averted her gaze from everyone.   
  
_Oh yeah, this is going to be a long, long evening_   
  


To Be Continued


End file.
